


Third Choice

by Mordenkainen



Category: Half-Life
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon characters to be tagged as they appear, English is the writer's second language, Gen, Gordon will meet the canon cast at some point, Mostly under stress, Not A Fix-It, Original characters won't be the focus, Portal Storm, Possible Adrian Shephard, Possible Colette Green, Selectively Mute Gordon Freeman, Will try to cover from Black Mesa to the events of Half Life 2, Writer hasn't written in a decade, black mesa, i'll do my best
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:28:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26851453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mordenkainen/pseuds/Mordenkainen
Summary: Gordon Freeman is given two choices by The G-Man. To work for him, or fight a battle he has no hope of winning. Unbeknownst to them, a third choice has already been made for him.AU in which Gordon doesn't get put into stasis and has to witness the consequences of defeating The Nihilanth.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 22





	1. Back into the fray.

Warning. Vital signs critical.

Seek medical attention.

It hurts. The broken leg, the shrapnel, the burns. The suit ran out of morphine an hour ago and the alien healing stations did not do much to stop the pain. Not that it matters much anymore. The job is done and he is ready to accept death.

The grotesquerie’s head splat open. It was crying out in agony as it convulsed. Its five limbs shot aimless lightning around the room. The incapacitating pain, the cacophony and the flashes sent Freeman into a sensory overload, and forced him into closing his eyes.

Freeman’s thoughts went to all the people who helped him finish what Black Mesa started. His sector C coworkers, the guards, the people he helped from administration, the Lambda team. Dr. Kleiner, Eli. God, Eli’s daughter.

Calhoun.

“Gordon Freeman in the flesh.”

Wait. What?

He opened his eyes.

Whenever he attempts to recall this memory, he can never pinpoint the moment in which he appeared in the tram. One minute he is watching the most spectacular pyrotechnics event in history and the next he is standing on the very same tram he took the morning of the resonance cascade. Except instead of it being on Black Mesa, it seems to be moving around an empty void, and a man is staring at him. A suit and a blank expression, and the same silhouette he thought he saw out of the corner of his eye numerous times while fighting for his life.

The man was talking to him. Everything about him screamed Wrong. From his perfectly neat suit and posture, his otherworldly speech pattern, or his blank expression. He looked human, and at the same time, not. Like something using the skin of a person.

Gordon was dazed, struggling to put meaning into the Thing’s words, when he felt something pulling at him.

It stopped talking, and Its expression hardened.

The tram seemed to elongate, putting distance between them.

Freeman struggled trying to keep standing up. Up? Where was up? The tram was no more and infinite darkness surrounded him.

There was no sight of the man anymore, but he still heard his voice.

“We’ll see about that.”

A green flash.

And then he passed out.

* * *

The first thing Gordon felt when he woke up was the painful headache, and then the mix of hunger and nausea. He hadn’t eaten anything since he raided a vending machine down in administration, and his body was demanding him to eat. He wasn’t sure he would be able to hold it in for long, though.

He opened his eyes, and then hissed as the pain intensified. Bright. Too bright. He squinted to let his eyes get used to the light.

He was laying on a hard surface raised from the floor, but he seemed to have a pillow under his head. White ceiling and walls, machinery, and the faint smell of smoke. He was back in Black Mesa. He was back in Lambda.

Relief. Frustration. To be plucked from a hostile world and sent back to a living hell.

But he’s alive.

He got up slowly, but with much less resistance than anticipated. He did not have his H.E.V. suit on. Looking around he saw his bloodstained lab coat resting on a chair, and a depleted medical station laying on the floor. Obviously, someone seemed to be taking care of him.

As if on cue, the door to the room slid open. Gordon attempted to reach for his sidearm on impulse, but his hand found nothing.

“There’s nothing to be scared of, Dr. Freeman, it’s me, Turner. Please, don’t make any sudden movements. We were able to regenerate most of the damaged tissue but you haven’t replenished all of your blood.”

A tall man, probably on his early forties. Gordon hadn’t bothered learning his name before, but he remembered that this was one of the scientists that welcomed him to the Lambda Complex.

“The others?” He signed.

Turner’s expression darkened. “Mr. Young went to look for food half an hour ago. He borrowed your suit, I hope you don’t mind. As for the others... It saddens me to say that they did not make it. I was monitoring the energy signatures corresponding to the being you were sent to kill when I saw them peak and then vanish. It was a long shot, but I attempted to use the teleporter to create a path from the coordinates dictated by the H.E.V.’s trackers to here. Somehow it worked, which means you must have succeeded in activating the Xen relay. I applaud your foresight, Dr. Freeman.”

He shook his head and signed “Not me.”

Turner tilted his head “Really? How fortuitous, then! Although I wonder who could have accomplished such a feat. Perhaps one of the members from the old survey teams? It has been weeks since the expeditions stopped. It would be a miracle for someone to have survived that long in such a hostile environment. In any case-” Once again, the door slid open, interrupting him. “Ah! Mr. Young, glad to see you’re safe and sound.”

Gordon glanced at the man. He seemed to be on his thirties, or early forties. Orange armor covered most of his body. He carried a box labelled ‘Do not touch’.

“Hey, I see Freeman’s finally awake, huh. I’m sorry about taking your suit, doc. I promise I’ll give it back soon, it should help with the pain in the leg. I took the liberty of replacing the battery. Uh, at least I think I did it correctly. More importantly, I managed to get my hands on these” Young deposited the box on the floor and took two cans out of it, white potatoes and onion soup. “Pretty neat, right?”

“Oh thank the heavens. For a moment there I thought we would actually starve down here. You must be hungry, Gordon, you’ve been out for a whole day and then some. Please, help yourself.” Said Dr. Turner.

Gordon raised his eyebrow. Out for a day? It made sense, he hadn’t had a proper rest since the incident started, plus regenerating all that tissue must’ve had its toll on his system. He was surprised that he managed to spend a day sleeping in Black Mesa and survive.

Young opened a can of beans with a knife and then handed it to him. “You’re gonna need all the energy you can get if we want to get out of this mess.”

They were precooked, and supposedly safe to eat. He ate directly from the can. They were cold, and somewhat tasteless, but in that moment it was the best food he had ever had.

“Hey, doc” Young said to him while putting away his own can “I uh, I wanted to apologize. I was kind of rude to you when we first met. I didn't think you would actually go through with your assignment, much less succeed at it.”

Gordon paused his eating and looked at him. After a moment, he nodded. In truth, Freeman barely remembered what the man’s comments. He had larger concerns at that moment.

“And what a success it was!” Dr. Turner said, some excitement in his voice. “As of right now I can tell you that the energy emissions from Xen have reduced an astounding ninety three percent. Since you killed the creature, we have only seen a total of two parasites teleport into the lambda complex. A big improvement from the swarm of aliens that terrorized us. No more big alien soldiers or flying creatures, either.”

“Yeah, doc, about that” Young interrupted. “I actually saw one of those five limbed things while I was searching for supplies. You know, the ones with the green collars? It scared the bejesus out of me, but it seemed to be as scared as I was. I missed my shot and it managed to run away. I didn’t chase, so it’s still out there somewhere.”

A lot of useful information. Dr. Turner’s hypothesis turned out to be correct; killing the thing had stopped, or at least considerably slowed the alien invasion. Gordon had the theory that the grotesquerie was capable of teleporting alien forces at will, and with scary accuracy. Without It in the equation, the only aliens coming from Xen would be stragglers, teleported in a random and unpredictable manner. Still dangerous, but with their number diminished, humanity would live another day.

He would be able to go home. Or he would become a fugitive. Right, there’s the dozens of Hazardous Environment Combat Unit marines he was forced to kill. He doubted the American government would care his actions were in self-defense. In addition, many of the marines seemed to have a personal vendetta against him for having killed some of their comrades.

Then again, the military had abandoned the base before their mission was over. Orders must have changed at some point; perhaps he would be able to walk free after all.

It did not take long for him to finish eating. He tossed the can into a nearby bin and then turned to Young.

“H.E.V.” He signed with one hand.

“Right, sorry Freeman.”

Young struggled trying to get out of the suit, clearly unfamiliar with its inner workings. The man was clearly frustrated and so Gordon offered some help, which Young declined. _Waste of time_.

Once Freeman put the suit on, he was greeted by its familiar voice. Surprisingly, Turner did manage to replace the battery correctly. The familiar weight felt strangely comforting and he found that moving his leg became easier.

Dr. Turner let out a low hum while at a computer screen. “That’s odd.”

“Is something wrong?” Asked Young.

“No, everything’s alright, just… I’ve been going through some logs in order to find out how exactly the Xen relay was activated since it doesn’t make any sense, and there’s an error message from thirty two hours ago. It reads; ‘Unauthorized cross-dimensional field section A-17 prototype labs’.”

“Ok, but how is this supposed to help us, doc?” He interrupted.

“I’m not finished. Section A-17 is a highly confidential laboratory. I and a few other lambda colleagues used to work over there, but it’s been abandoned since Lambda first became operational. It holds our first works on teleportation technology. These readings show that is still functioning and someone used it recently. The special thing about this lab is that it is able to teleport things locally on a larger scale than the lambda teleporters are. I’m talking about going from one end of the facility to the other, instead of just a few meters.”

Handy. They would be able to get out and avoid the more dangerous parts of the facility.

“Alright, and how do we get there?” Asked Young.

“We need to make our way to the freight yard. We can’t leave Lambda through the front door so we’ll have to use the maintenance tunnels. One of them should lead us to the waste processing area, close to the freight yard. I know the way, I think.”

“If you say so. Let’s not waste too much time, then” Young said, getting up and turning to Gordon. “Let’s go back to the supply depot; we’ll need to get you some guns.”

* * *

Gordon did not like being escorted. He’d had to protect a few people before while navigating Black Mesa’s claustrophobic corridors, but he never expected to be on the other end.

Young was slow, but not because he was taking his time looking at blind spots and approaching new rooms cautiously; he just seemed scared, which is fair. Gordon himself had been scared the first day, granted he had gotten desensitized faster than the average person would.

Dr. Turner was following close behind, holding a pistol. Gordon wondered if he had even fired a gun before. He did not seem to be paying too much attention to where he was pointing, and he didn’t seem to be holding it very firmly. At least his finger wasn’t on the trigger.

“We’re here. Come open the door.”

Dr. Turner put his gun away to use the retinal scanner. The door opened and the group entered the room, but as soon as the doors closed, the sounds of steps coming closer reverberated around the room.

“Crap. Doc, look out!” Young shouted as a zombie lunged for Turner.

Turner tried to grab his gun but he was inexperienced and slow. The zombie grabbed him by the arms with a grip strong enough to leave a long-lasting bruise, and it was trying to pull him closer to bite at him with his second mouth.

Young was trying to aim at the zombie, but he risked shooting at Turner from his angle.

Gordon ran at the zombie and hit it with a shoulder tackle. It hit the wall and dropped Turner in the process. Before it could swipe at Gordon, he grabbed its head and smacked it against the wall, leaving a green stain.

“Jesus, that’s one way to do it. Doc, you okay? Can you move?” Young asked.

“Yes I uh, I should be fine. It just hurts but I should be alright.”

Gordon took a few seconds to shake off the adrenaline, and then headed over to the weapon supplies and started going through the wide variety of guns and explosives.

Young helped Turner up, and then got closer to the corpse, taking a look at the nametag on the lab coat. “Poor guy. You recognize him? His name’s-”

“Don’t. Sorry, don’t… I don’t want to know, I don’t want to know.” Turner responded, walking away. “Just… Get your things and-“

The ground shook for a few seconds, interrupting Turner.

“Ah crap, did the airstrikes resume? I thought we were free of the military” Young said “How are we going to get out now?”

Gordon looked at Young in the eyes and handed him a semi-automatic.

“We fight.” He spoke, before turning around and starting to take ammunition boxes from the shelves and putting the bullets into magazines.

Young was a bit taken aback, as he hadn't heard him speak before. “Yeah. Yeah you’re right, there’s no other option.”

When everyone finished sorting through weapons and ammunition, the group started making their way into the maintenance tunnels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading :)  
> This is the most I've written in years, and the first time I write in english. I know where the story is going up until Gordon gets out of Black Mesa, and I have many ideas and many scenes planned that are set years after the events of the first game.  
> I didn't want to tag Barney & Co because they won't appear for a while and I don't want people to find this fanfiction and then be disappointed that they're not on the first chapters, but I promise they'll be here eventually. I'll start work on the second chapter soon!


	2. So, how's the weather outside?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group talks about the weather.

Getting to the maintenance tunnels was easier than expected. The hallways were littered with corpses, alien and human alike, but apart from being attacked by a pack of three-legged electrical dogs, they did not find much resistance.

When Young opened the door to maintenance, however, he was immediately charged at by an acid-spitter.

Young cursed and aimed at the creature but Turner reacted faster, pushing him out of the way. Three or four shots came out of Young’s automatic, but none met his target. The creature charged past the group, barely missing them.

They were forced to cover their ears as Gordon gave it a close-range shotgun blast, killing it before it had a chance to spit any acid.

“Do… do not,” Young stammered “I had it.”

“It would’ve broken your leg, or worse, and we can’t afford that now, can we?” Turner replied.

“I’ll be on the front.” Gordon signed, moving past them and into the tunnels.

They were long, dark corridors with flickering lights and rusted pipelines. They walked in silence, with Young in the back making sure they weren’t ambushed by critters. A few hallways had collapsed, and so they had to find alternative routes. Gordon ducked into rooms through ventilator ducts and opened barricaded doors for them.

After getting past yet another collapse, the ground shook once again.

“Another. We need to pick up the pace or the whole facility will be gone before we even get there.” Said Young.

Turner stayed silent, a concerned look on his face. Gordon understood. There was no way those were simple airstrikes. Too spaced out compared to the heavy bombing that took place before the military’s retreat. And the way the ground shook didn’t feel like the shock from an impact, but actual small quakes. Could be a coincidence, a natural phenomenon, but Gordon couldn’t rule out the possibility that something else could be happening. Could the resonance cascade have triggered the movement of a seismic plate? No, this is different.

It’s like the resonance cascade never stopped in the first place.

But that doesn’t make sense. That thing in... What was it they called it? Xen? It was dead. He killed it. Maybe the lambda team was mistaken? Could there have been a second creature?

He remembered the mechanical chair the creature was sitting on. A technology far too different from the organics used in the tower.

_Focus. There will be time for this later._

The group continued heading towards the Lambda Complex south access, passing by the Hazardous Materials Bay C, a cargo area not unlike the one Gordon passed through when he first arrived on the Lambda Complex.

The area was filled with parasites, and the group encountered a couple zombies sporting maintenance uniforms, who were quickly dispatched by Gordon and Young.

The sound of the gunshots, however, must have alerted something nearby. On the second floor of the bay, at the end of a catwalk a sliding door was forcibly open, from the other side one of the armored clone-soldiers came out, and started firing its biological weapon in the general direction of the group.

Gordon ducked out of the way, dragging Turner with him and hiding behind some crates. Young was slower, and one of the homing hornets struck him on his left side before he managed to find some cover.

Young tried to suppress a scream, and as the pain spread across his body, he slumped to the floor against a concrete pillar.

Turner tried to find a chance to return fire, but the alien was smarter than it seemed, its constant firing of the bioweapon acting as suppressive fire. It knew that while they were not on its line of sight, the hornets would eventually strike them.

Gordon took a quick peak to look at the alien’s position; it was now in the middle of the catwalk, trying to find a better angle.

He took a grenade. He knew that there was no way to land the grenade on the catwalk without it falling to the other side, so it had to explode in midair. He knew the timing and had the practice, so he pulled the pin off the grenade and counted. One, two, three, and throw. The ensuing explosion destroyed the catwalk and a nearby crate was set on fire. The hornets stopped coming.

“Jesus. Is it- Is it safe?” Asked Young, as he tried to stand up, using the pillar to support his body.

Gordon came out of his cover to look for the remains. It was on its back, laying on the floor. Its weapon was gone, its third hand had been blown off, and pieces of its armor had been broken off as well. While it didn’t have its weapon anymore, it was still doing its back and forth firing motion towards Gordon as he got closer, but nothing came out.

A bulled ended its misery.

“I think we’re good now.” Said Turner “Are you going to be alright?”

“Yeah I think I’m good. It didn’t hit anything important. But jeez, those things must be made to inflict pain.”

As it turned out, the room the Alien came through ended up being the south access room. Inside were the remains of a scientist unlucky enough to have been trapped there when the alien teleported in.

The maintenance tunnels that lead to the waste processing area should be outside the south access room, but when Turner attempted to use the retinal scanner on the exit door, nothing happened.

“Great. Now what are we going to do?” Said Young.

“Stand back.” Signed Gordon.

Gordon motioned for them to stand behind him, and then aimed his shotgun at the bulletproof glass. Two shotgun blasts were not enough to penetrate the glass, and Gordon discerned that even if he was able to make a hole with enough shots, it wouldn’t be big enough for a person to pass through. An explosive, however, might be ideal.

And so he planted one of the satchel charges where the pellets struck before leaving the room. He waved the remote control at Young and Turner, who understood and went to take cover.

After a deafening explosion, the group waited for the dust to settle before entering the room and finding most of the glass shattered.

After climbing through the glass and leaving Lambda behind the group made their way into the materials transport tunnels that connects Lambda with the waste processing area.

They were dark and wide tunnels big enough for vehicles, and there wasn’t much room for cover other than the occasional truck or pile of rubble. Gordon used the suit’s flashlight to illuminate their way.

After walking for a while the group spotted three zombies banging on a door on the side of the tunnel. One shot for each was enough. Curious, Gordon carefully opened the door and shined his flashlight.

Breaker boxes, piles of crates and general clutter. He shined the flashlight at a corner, and then aimed the shotgun in reflex at what he saw. A body laying against the wall, green camo, automatic rifle on the floor, blood.

Military.

Breathing.

“Don’t,” The man said between jagged breaths. “please.”

Caucasian male. Early thirties, possibly.

Gordon didn’t move. _Couldn’t move_. The man could be a threat, but he wasn’t shooting. He was scared. He had seen plenty of scared marines, and they were _dangerous_ , but this one…

He kept the gun raised.

And then Turner and Young entered the room.

“Holy _shit,_ ” Young said, aiming his automatic at the soldier. “What the hell is one of them doing _here?_ ”

The soldier had his hands raised “Please, please, please. I’m not… I’m not a threat.”

“Oh, yeah sure. Give us a good reason why we should believe you.” Young took a step closer.

“Don’t have one.” The soldier said. He was sweating and breathing heavily, but he was doing his best not to move a muscle.

Turner put his hand on Young’s shoulder. “Mr. Young, I really don’t think he’s lying.”

“Don’t touch me!” Yelled Young. Turner stepped away.

The yelling was enough to snap Gordon out of his daze.

He walked up to the soldier, still aiming his shotgun with one hand, and then he picked up the automatic with the other. He made sure the safety was on before he handed it to Turner.

“You’re not just… gonna let him live, right?” Young sputtered. “You _saw_ what they did!”

Gordon glared at him. Young was angry and emotional; his reaction was understandable. But Gordon was _tired_. Tired of people dying around him. Tired of having to press the trigger.

So he turned around and crouched next to the soldier, and he began to search him for weapons and supplies. He only found a knife, which he took. “What’s your name?” He signed.

“Shit. I don’t know, I don’t speak sign.” The soldier responded.

“I can translate.” Turner said, stepping closer.

Young sat against a crate, weapon still in his hands. “I cannot believe you’re actually doing this.”

Gordon repeated the question to Turner. “He’s asking for your name.”

The soldier started to relax, now that no one was pointing a gun at him. “My name’s Adam. Adam Mason”

“How did you end up here, Mason?”

“I... I was abandoned, a couple days ago, when the military retreated. There’s no rescue mission for those left behind, and it’s a whole lot safer here than outside. Not that it will matter much, in the end.”

Gordon furrowed his brow.

“You mean the airstrikes?”

“Wait, you don’t know?” Mason looked surprised. “There’s no airstrikes.”

“What is causing the tremors, then?”

“I’m not… totally sure. It’s just... Jesus, how do you even begin to describe it?”

“Get on with it and tell us what’s going on.” Young said.

“Fine. Fine, it’s like… like reality decides to just… fall apart. You see it coming, in the distance, but it’s fast, faster than you can ever run. Faster than car. And it destroys everything, like a wave hitting a sand castle.”

Turner leaned heavily against the wall. “That can’t be.”

“That’s not the worst part.” Mason said “I heard from a radio, yesterday. It’s spreading. It’s happening all over New Mexico and Arizona.”

“Shit. No, he’s lying.” Young stood up.

“He’s not.” Gordon signed. “It all fits.”

“What do you mean it all fits?” Young asked

Turner gasped, coming to a realization. “It’s the cascade. We didn’t stop it.”

“Then what the hell was the point of going to kill that thing?” Young asked

“We were under the impression that the entity in the border world was responsible. Could it be that the energy signatures were the entity trying to keep the cascade contained in the facility?”

“What, so you’re saying that not only did Freeman kill it for nothing, he also started the apocalypse?” Young said. Gordon clenched his teeth “So, what are we supposed to do, now?”

Turner shifted “Well, this certainly changes things. I suppose we could stay inside the facility a while longer until this is all over.”

“About that,” Mason interrupted, “after evacuations are done around the nearby towns… they’re going to detonate the facility. They’ve got nuclear explosives.”

Young hit the wall with his fist. “You’ve got to be kidding me. And you say this _now_?”

Mason looked at him in the eyes “Does it really matter? Leave the facility or stay inside, we’ll die either way.”

“Freeman, step aside. I’m gonna clock him.”

“No.” Gordon stood between them, facing Young. “We’re leaving. Right now.”

Young paused for a moment. “Fine,” he turned around. “You’re lucky _he_ is the one with the hazard suit.”

So people are dying all over two states, and it’s only a matter of time until the facility is nuked. Gordon knew the situation outside was bad, with aliens coming out of Black Mesa, but cataclysmic events on top of that? And if Turner is right and this is the resonance cascade spreading out, wouldn’t that mean aliens are appearing in other places, too? Is that why teleportation activity has slowed down inside the facility?

The clock is ticking.

Gordon turned towards Mason. “Coming with?”

Mason stared up at Gordon for a few seconds. “I’m injured. I’d slow you down.”

Gordon nodded, and proceeded to leave.

“Head towards the lambda complex. It’s deep enough it might survive the blast. The way is clear.” Said Turner.

“Thank you. I’ll consider it.” Was the last thing they heard of him before the group left Mason in the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a month to write this. School's been hard and it's hard to get back into the habit of writing after 10 years. I hope you liked it! Hopefully the next chapter won't take this long.


End file.
